


Gifts Not Appreciated

by flamingstuffs, Harlequinade



Category: Fringe, Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Gen, Gore, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 05:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5955172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamingstuffs/pseuds/flamingstuffs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harlequinade/pseuds/Harlequinade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sky was overcast, dark and cloudy. Sam couldn’t tell if that was Dean or simply the weather - that crazy scientist had done things to them that were beyond explanation. Yet still he wasn’t satisfied and had taken that girl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gifts Not Appreciated

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is a dream I had, down to the last weird-as-fuck detail. I want to do a fic about what would really happen, should these two fandoms ever meet, but this was too good to pass up.

The sky was overcast, dark and cloudy. Sam couldn’t tell if that was Dean or simply the weather - that crazy scientist had done things to them that were beyond explanation. Yet still he wasn’t satisfied and had taken that girl.

Dean was clenching and unclenching his fist restlessly as they snuck closer to the lab. The building was sitting on the edge of a riverbank, the water flowing past like it was running away from the laboratory. There was a sleek, inclined steel walkway up to the front door. No rails. Nothing to keep you from plunging into the river.

“I’m gonna kill that crazy son of a bitch,” Dean hissed through his teeth.

“Dean, hold on,” Sam put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. _Zap!_ An electrical shock went through Sam and he whipped his hand away.

Sam shook his head, trying to clear the electrical jolt.

“Look, Sammy,” Dean turned to look at him, anger in his face. “That freak’s done stuff that I can’t even begin to explain to the two of us. Who knows what he’s gonna do to Paige?”

Paige was the young woman they had come to protect. Something had brought them here. Turns out it was the crazy scientist. He’d knocked them out, done experiments that had left Sam’s throat raw from screaming. Now… Dean was a human lightning rod and Sam had probably been traumatized. Paige was the cousin of another hunter - Xavier Harlem - who was captured and hadn’t survived whatever that maniac was doing.

Sam hadn’t known Xavier very well; he was a second generation hunter, like Dean and him. But Xavier, the few times they had crossed paths, had some of the keenest senses for the difference between a violent spirit and a death omen. Xavier’s screams still haunted him.

It wasn’t enough to be selected to be a soldier for the demons in whatever war was coming, now Sam’s own brother was somebody’s science project as well. 

The front door was wide open - a huge steel trap of a door that was dented but still as shiny as when it was new. Inside, by the great windows looking out to the frothing river, Paige was sitting, strapped to a chair. Her face was covered with her dirty blonde hair, her whole body flopped forward like an old noodle.

Dean walked over to her, pushing on her shoulder so that everything flopped the other way. It didn’t look good - her skin, normally an olive tone, was now pale like olive oil rather than the tanned, olive undertone it normally had.

“Paige.” Dean softly slapped her face, trying to bring her back. “Paige.”

Paige’s eyelids fluttered, and she groaned. 

Her eyes opened, and Sam took a step back while Dean muttered, “Jesus,” under his breath. They were completely glazed over - white. But she could obviously just see them; her eyes immediately focussed on Dean as he worked to untie her.

“Dean?” She muttered incoherently.

“Yeah, hey, we’re gonna try and get you out of here,” Dean assured her.

 _Slam!_ The door closed, and Sam whirled towards it. He ran for it, pulling desperately. Nothing happened. It was like it was locked. Which it shouldn’t be, unless someone...

Sam turned and finally noticed the other door, the one leading to the living areas of the lab, was opening. 

“Dean!” Sam snapped, and Dean turned, looking over his shoulder. He stood the moment he noticed the door as well. 

An older man stepped out. His face was wrinkled, curly salt-and-pepper (more salt than pepper at this point) hair carefully combed back, and he was wearing a navy blue suit. Sam’s hands clenched instinctively.

“Hello, boys,” Walter Bishop greeted. Sam’s hands clenched even more. The maniac sounded just like a grandfather. _Typical._

“Bishop,” If Dean had ever sounded like a lion, now was the time. “Let her go,”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” Bishop sounded apologetic. The nerve of him. “I would gladly have let her go with you if you had come earlier. I do quite admire your bravery, coming back here, but if she goes with you now, she’ll die,”

“What are you talking about?” Sam demanded. They needed to save Paige from this Frankenstein.

“She’s already prepped for surgery,” Bishop offered. “I’ve removed most of the organs to be replaced and put temporary, biodegradable ones to keep her alive while the rest of the calibrations were being done,”

“You son of a _bitch!_ ” Dean lunged, sparks of electricity coming from his hands. But suddenly, they sparked out like a dying battery. Dean stopped in confusion, looking at his hands as if simply staring would bring back his deadly touch.

“This is my _home_ , Mr. Winchester,” Bishop stated firmly. “You will _not_ be using those gifts here,”

“ _Gifts?_ ” Sam laughed incredulously. Bishop couldn’t be serious.

“Yes,” Bishop responded with the same amount of conviction. “I don’t suppose you would understand,”

“Enlighten me,” Sam snapped, arms crossed. There was no way there was a good enough explanation for this.

Bishop was quiet for a moment. He walked over to one of the huge window, staring at the brewing storm and the rushing river.

Finally, he spoke. “I lost my son when he was ten,”

“Big deal,” Dean dismissed venomously. “We lost our mother when Sam wasn’t even a year old,”

Bishop whirled. “Don’t you _dare_ disrespect me boy!” His face was one of rage, but it quickly shifted back to sorrow. “I would have done whatever it took to get him back. And I did,” He chuckled, raising hairs on Sam’s neck. “I went to another universe, one where he _didn’t_ die, and brought him back,”

Sam glanced at Dean. 

“You do know you’re crazy, right?” Dean asked rhetorically.

“You have no idea what a parent will do for their child,” Bishop said mournfully.

 _That_ made Dean take a step back, because he did know. Oh, did he know.

Bishop continued. “I brought him here and raised him as my own. But do you know what I found over there?”

“Sunshine and bunnies?” Dean asked sarcastically.

“I found the end of our world,” Bishop seemed lost now, thinking about the horrors of whatever crazy things mad scientists think about. “and I had to stop it. Billy and I - he was my lab partner, you know - created a drug called cortexiphan. It would give us the soldiers we needed to fight back against the other side when they invade. But it wasn’t enough. Those children were only meant to protect against that universe. What about the universe where the inhabitants come to attack and destroy us, taking up residence in the last place they died, haunting those who move into their vacant homes? Who would protect us from the quote on quote, ‘supernatural world’?”

“Maybe people who aren’t total psychos?” Dean snapped. 

“You still don’t get it, _boy_! I _made_ you to defend us!”

“Yeah, well we were doing a pretty good job on our own!”

“What about your brother’s abilities, given to him by a ‘demon’?” 

Sam jerked, looking at Dean with a similar shocked expression. How could he know about that?

“I’m making hunters who can defend themselves from the inevitable invasion.”

“You’re torturing people to give them things they never said they wanted!”

“Is that true?” Bishop straightened, giving his suit a tug to settle it better on his shoulders. “In that case, Ms. Grayson, would you like to leave with Mr. Winchester?”

Sam exchanged a confused glance with Dean. Paige was drugged out of her mind - there was no way she could respond.

“...No,” Paige answered slowly. _What?_ Sam whirled to look at Paige in shock. She looked better now (still had those creepy eyes), sitting up straight and listening quietly with an, if not attentive face, at least not a completely glassy and vacant expression.

“And would you like to explain to the Winchesters why you do not wish to leave?”

“... I want to be able to protect myself against the demons threatening our world.” Paige’s voice was as expressionless as her face. “I want to be able to do what Xavier did,”

“Yes, but Xavier wouldn’t have wanted _this,_ ” Sam exclaimed, waving his arms around. Xavier had _died_ in this laboratory.

“It’s too late, Sam,” Paige looked at him calmly, and Sam wanted to cry because she would regret this and he didn’t know how to stop her. “I’ll die if I don’t go through with this,”

“Just stop this -- goddammit,” Dean burst out. His voice was rough and hoarse, like it always got when he was emotional. “We’ll find a way -- _just come with us,_ ” 

Paige shook her head, standing. She was wavering, as if about to collapse. “It’s already done,”

Sam looked into the operating room and oh god, there were organs all over the table. There was also huge apparatus that if he didn’t know better he would say looked like a giant EasyBake oven. Bishop was as weird as he was sick in the head.

Paige walked into the room, almost falling at the entrance, but gripping the edges of the doorway and stumbling into the room. The door closed behind her, locking shut. 

Bishop picked up a microphone. “Now, all those tray on the table must go into the specific slots. The one containing the brownies and intestines first,” 

Dean looked at the scientist incredulously. “Uh, brownies? What are you smoking?”

“With you, Mr. Winchester, I used Italian puppies. Quite delicious, if you wrap them correctly,” Bishop chuckled. Sam didn’t know how to respond to that, and he also didn’t know how Italian pigs-in-a-blanket organs gave people superpowers.

At the end of Paige preparing her own funeral, she suddenly asked out of the blue, “Can you knock me out?” For the first time, she sounded afraid.

“Excuse me?” Bishop asked. Apparently his age was catching up with him.

“Can you knock me out?” Paige repeated. “I don’t want to… feel it happen.”

“Hmph. I suppose that will not mess with the abilities I’m giving you. Of course, my dear. See those syringes over there? The one marked X-724. Put it in the microwave above your head,”

Paige did as Bishop instructed, then, as the microwave begin to turn, walked over to what looked like the front of the giant-sized purple and pink monstrosity. She opened what looked like the front door to a wood burning stove and got in.

Sam turned away Bishop twisted dials and hit buttons, and covered his ears when Paige began to scream.


End file.
